by Linda Wells
“Your aunt and I were going to suggest that you take Georgiana on an extended holiday, or perhaps simply have her come and stay at Matlock for the winter, to give you a respite. We could see how hard this has been for you.”
“I seem to recall you telling me that sending her away would make it appear as if I were ashamed of her? Would that not be the effect of sending her to Matlock with you?”
“No, because we will have all removed from Town, nobody knows what you do at Pemberley, do they?”
He bowed his head. “That is true; however, I believe Pemberley is where she should be. I … think she will do well there.”
“And travel; what of that idea?” He asked. “We could go as a family party, to Italy perhaps? It is safe there, I believe.”
Darcy shook his head. “No, I do not think a sea voyage is what she needs right now, despite the delights of the destination. She is … she is ill. I wish her to be in peace at home. Nobody will bother her there. She will not be forced to wear a happy countenance to please her companions.”
“I suppose you understand her best, Darcy. These were simply some suggestions your aunt and I devised.” He paused. “I want to apologize for pushing Anne on you yesterday. Richard spoke to me of your conversation.”
Darcy’s head snapped up. “What did he say?”
Lord Matlock’s brows furrowed, wondering all that had passed in their meeting. “He said that your mother had already declared that she wanted you to marry Anne, and that your father said it was devised in some combined retribution by my sisters towards my father, to make you greater than he.”
Darcy relaxed and nodded; sinking back down in his chair. “Yes, that is what I understood. Do you disagree?”
“No. Your mother, my sister, never did accept that a titled family could be lesser than a non-titled one. But there was more to it than that. You see, she was caught in a compromising position with the son of a peer, whose father refused to allow the wedding because she was considered to be ruined, despite the fact that his son is the one who perpetrated the act. Your father had expressed interest in her, and so she was attached to the wealthiest man who would have her at the time, to hush up the scandal immediately.”
Darcy stared. “Am I not George Darcy’s son?”
“Oh no, no, you are his son. No child resulted from her foolishness. No Darcy, you were born about a year after your parents wed. Anne had been bitter about her suitor’s abandonment, never accepting her culpability in the affair, and further never accepted her forced marriage to a man who essentially was the best bidder at the time. But she did give the marriage her best attention for that first year, as she realized how miserable her life would be if the news of her being compromised had been spread about society. She was grudgingly grateful to your father for essentially rescuing her from a life of shame. However, once she bore him his heir, she felt that she had fulfilled her duties to him, and she allowed her anger to take over.” He sighed. “Your father was devoted to her for the first few years, but he grew frustrated and just as embittered as she. I suppose that is the marriage that you remember, and is the reason behind your attitude towards marriages of convenience now.”
Darcy absorbed this news in silence. It was all so overwhelming, and the dull throbbing headache he felt when he awakened that morning was growing to a pain of mammoth proportions. “You are telling me that my mother was compromised and rather than face scorn, she was married off to my father?”
“Yes.” He said simply. “Which is why I hold out hope that Georgiana will someday marry. However, your aunt and I both feel that she must accept that she was in some way responsible for what happened before she can contemplate marriage to anyone at all, if she hopes to be happy in her situation. Now, you may need to increase her dowry …”
He shook his head, and chose not to think of Georgiana’s own guilt. “I will not sell her to the highest bidder.”
“I am not suggesting that. It is reasonable that a man truly will care for her. I just wish to hold out your mother as an example of a woman who was compromised and found respectability again in marriage.”
“To a man she did not respect, she considered him below herself, and did all she could to make his offer of redemption in marriage a farce, driving him to a life with mistresses and affairs, just as she did the same with men who came to our home. Forgive me uncle if the hope you present to me does not send me to dancing a jig.”
“Your parent’s example is not necessarily how things will be for Georgiana.” He said steadily.
Darcy rubbed his temples. “No, no, you are correct. It is not, and it should give me hope. This has all been rather … overwhelming.” He sighed and looked up. “I do wish to simply take her home. Perhaps she will wish to accompany me to Hertfordshire at the end of September. Nobody will know her there either, and we might enjoy the change of scenery by then. Perhaps she might make some friends there. Netherfield is not as remote as Pemberley.”
Lord Matlock nodded. “All right, Son. You handle it as you see best. Please know that your aunt and I are ready to assist or welcome her or both of you to Matlock whenever you wish, and we do intend to accept your offer of hospitality at Christmas, the whole family will come.”
Darcy nodded and looked to him with gratitude. “Thank you, Uncle Henry. I can not tell you how much I appreciate your support.”
THE NEXT MORNING, Darcy sat alone at the breakfast table, holding her letter in his hand, and dying to open it. For whatever reason, this letter represented hope to him. He lightly traced his fingers over the words on the envelope, and imagined her bent over a writing desk. Would she write deliberately as he does, or quickly, her mind so alive with thoughts that they fairly flowed from her pen? He thought of her pausing to consider her words, perhaps chewing on the pen, its tip caught in her straight white teeth, or perhaps resting on soft pink lips. His eyes closed as his breathing increased. “What is wrong with you?” He whispered. When Georgiana finally appeared he practically shoved the letter in her hands and stared at her until she opened it and began to read.
25 June 1811
Longbourn
Hertfordshire
Dear Miss Darcy,
I hope that this letter finds you well. I have found myself wondering about you since your last letter, and I decided that I must satisfy my curiosity. Ordinarily I would not be so forward, but I find that once I fix an idea in my head, I must act upon it. I assure you, such ideas quite often send me off on adventures that no proper lady should admit, and if my mother ever knew, why I would never hear the end of her fluttering. Oh do not think me too wicked, shall I tell you? All right, it shall be our secret. I climb trees. There, it is said. I also read absolutely everything that I can get my hands on, including those books that my father keeps locked up in his cabinet. I learned where the key is kept long ago, although, as I think about it, I do believe my father made no pretence of hiding its location from me. Oh my, do you think that he actually meant me to read such things? Miss Darcy, forgive my ramblings, but simply writing down my thoughts has helped me to realize something that I did not actually comprehend before. How extraordinary! Well, that settles it. I must write to you often if it brings such moments of clarity!
If we are to be correspondents, I must know of you. I know that you have a brother and a cousin who, I think, is a colonel? I know that you live in Derbyshire at an estate named Pemberley. That is all I know. How old are you? Do your parents live? Do you have other siblings? What do you enjoy doing with your time?
I realize it is hardly fair to ask such things without providing you information about myself so I will tell you. I am just twenty. I walk daily and far. I have never ridden a horse. I have many times been a passenger on one, but was certainly never in charge. As I said, I enjoy reading, and arguing with my father. I dearly love to laugh, so am quite proficient with teasing. I play a little, but rather poorly, and you have seen the evidence of my skill with a needle. I understand that you may come to stay at the estat
e that neighbours mine in the autumn. If you do, I hope that you would enjoy my company, and that of my sisters. I do hope that your travel to Derbyshire is comfortable. Please send your brother my greetings, and tell him that I await our next duel with anticipation.
Sincerely yours,
Elizabeth Bennet
Darcy watched intently as she read. He was itching to rip the letter from her, and delighted in the appearance of a slow, small smile on her pale face. He breathed a sigh of relief. Elizabeth had touched her.
“What does Miss Elizabeth have to say, Georgiana?” He asked as casually as he could.
She looked up with brimming eyes. “She is so nice, William.” She handed him the letter and he turned his eyes to it, eagerly drinking in the simple happy words. Soon the little smile on his own lips grew to the warm one he seemed to have found only for her. A duel. She asks for satisfaction. He nodded. So be it, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I shall sharpen my pen to take on your wit.
He looked up to see he was undergoing close scrutiny by his sister’s wide blue eyes. “Georgiana?”
She looked at him in wonder. “You are smiling, William. I … I have not seen you smile so in a very long time.” She looked down.
He reached out and touched her hand. “I could say the same of you, dear. It seems that Miss Elizabeth’s letter has made us both feel happier. I hope that you intend to write to her today.”
“Oh yes, I should!” She bit her lip. “What should I say?”
He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Anything you feel comfortable saying, Georgiana. Perhaps you should start by answering her questions, they are simple enough.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
She nodded. “Yes, I can do that.” She said softly.
He handed the letter back to her. “Be sure to give her the direction for Pemberley so she can send her reply to you. Oh, and Georgie, before you seal it, please allow me to add a few lines.”
They finished their meal; Darcy was pleased to see her eat more than a piece of toast. He watched her rise and leave the breakfast room, and let out a sigh of relief. Elizabeth Bennet had given him many new clues to add to his growing catalogue of her. He looked forward to a great many daydreams on the long trip to Pemberley.
Chapter 7
“Come now, Bennet, you know it would be a most welcome match! Your Eliza and my John! They have been friends for years!” Sir William Lucas was comfortably ensconced in an armchair within Thomas Bennet’s bookroom, a full glass of port in hand.
“That is true Sir William; however, I have no intention of brokering Lizzy’s marriage. If John is to win her, he will have to do it on his own.” Mr. Bennet’s lips twitched. “I would not want to be the young man Lizzy was coerced to marry.”
“Ah, there is something in that.” Sir William nodded. “Eliza does have a fiery personality.”
“Fiery? I would say obstinate, but regardless, at least while I live, she will be allowed to follow her heart.”
“It would be a fine match,” he paused, “you know, he was presented at a levee at St. James’s this spring …”
Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes. “As may be any recent graduate of Cambridge, even I.”
Sir William cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we are returning there for a gathering, the last of the Season as a matter of fact, quite soon.” Mr. Bennet remained silent and unimpressed.
Seeing his lack of audience, Sir William dropped the subject. “John does care for her.”
Mr. Bennet tilted his head. “Do you not wish for a girl with a greater dowry?”
In a rare show of humility Sir William spoke. “Certainly, I wish the best for him, but Lucas Lodge is not even as large as Longbourn, and … with my roots in trade … well … one thousand pounds and a gentleman’s daughter is nothing to sneeze at. And I would prefer to see him happy.”
“As I would my Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet said with an understanding nod.
“Ah-ha! Then we are agreed!” He clapped his hands. “Capital, capital!”
“Not so fast, sir. We are agreed we wish our children happy. That is all.” He raised his brow.
Sir William’s eyes narrowed. “How does Mrs. Bennet feel about this?”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Do not attempt to employ my wife against me, sir. I am an expert at resisting her charms.”
Sir William snorted. “Enough said!” He swallowed his port and stood, as did Mr. Bennet. “I have done my best. As you say it is up to the children. May I just say it would please me immensely to see the union. She is the brightest jewel in Hertfordshire.”
“Well finally we are in agreement, sir!” The men shook hands and Mr. Bennet escorted his guest to the door in time to meet Elizabeth and Jane returning from a trip to Meryton.
Sir William greeted them, giving Elizabeth a great wink and continued on his way. She turned to regard her father. She eyed him with suspicion. “What has Sir William so pleased, Papa?”
“Come into my bookroom, my dear.” Elizabeth glanced at Jane who lifted her shoulders, and followed her father in. He settled behind his desk and she took her usual chair across from him. “Well, well, Lizzy. It seems you are the subject of interest by a young man of the neighbourhood.” He watched her, his lips pursed and his chin resting on his folded hands.
Elizabeth’s startled eyes studied him, and then comprehension dawned. “John Lucas.”
“Well done, Lizzy.” He smiled. “What are your thoughts on the boy?”
She gave a sigh. “Boy is the word, Papa.”
“Ah, you see that. Good. He has not earned your respect, I see.”
“No, Papa. Nor my admiration. I see him only as a pleasant friend.” She began thinking through the situation. “Did Sir William think otherwise?”
“Let us say he hopes for a union?” He suggested.
She was incredulous. “John Lucas sent his father to present his suit?”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Well, whether Sir William came at his son’s behest or not, I can not say, all I do know is he sees the alliance as favourable to all, and desirable to his son.”
“How nice for his son.” She said dryly. “I hope you have not given me away, Papa.”
“No indeed, I told him as long as I live; your choice of spouse is your own.” He then looked at her seriously. “Just be sure to make your choice before that day. I have no desire to see you forced to make a decision you do not truly desire.” He continued, “It is a very prudent match for you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth nodded, recognizing her father’s rare expression of his fears. “Yes, Papa.” She rose and stood by his chair to kiss his forehead.
He closed his eyes for a moment then resumed his usual sardonic smile. “Off with you child.” He shooed her from the room.
“MR. DARCY, Miss Darcy, welcome home!” The beaming countenance of their housekeeper Mrs. Reynolds greeted the siblings as they walked into the foyer of the great house. Georgiana fell into the woman’s outstretched arms and embraced her so tightly she gasped. “My goodness, Miss Darcy! Well, I certainly missed you as well!” She smiled then looked at the young girl. Her smile disappeared. “Are you ill, dear?” She looked over to Darcy, who looked just as haggard. “Sir, what has happened to the two of you? Surely this must be more than exhaustion from your trip?”
Georgiana looked to her brother and whispered, “I am feeling tired, will you excuse me?” She gave Mrs. Reynolds another quick hug and whispered. “I missed you so much, Mrs. Reynolds!” Then turning, she ran up the stairs.
Darcy and his housekeeper stood watching her disappear then turned to each other. He met her raised brow. “Come to my study please, Mrs. Reynolds. I have some news to tell you. I am rather surprised you were not informed already.”
Twenty minutes later Mrs. Reynolds emerged from Darcy’s study, a handkerchief clutched in her hand. He remained behind. The peace of Pemberley lasted for almost two minutes before reality intruded. Wearily he rose to his feet and made his way to his chambers. He entered, hearing his valet busily putting
away his clothes. Roberts knocked and walked into the sitting room. “Sir, will you want a bath before dinner?”
Darcy nodded. “That would be welcome, Roberts, thank you.” He went to the window and leaned on the frame, gazing out at the lake. He would go riding tomorrow with his steward and look over the estate. The harvest was approaching, and there was much to do. He thought of the fine new stallion he had purchased at Tattersall’s two months previous and sent to Pemberley. He looked forward to trying his new mount. The thought of riding brought to mind Elizabeth’s note. She had never been in charge of a horse that she had ridden. He smiled, wondering if she meant that she had been lead by someone holding the reins or if every horse she had ever ridden had followed its head. What would it be like to teach her to ride? Looking out over the vast expanse of the green lawn he imagined his great black stallion, he seated upon it, sitting tall, one hand clutching the reins, the other firmly wrapped around Elizabeth’s waist, her chestnut curls loose and bouncing around her with each step of the animal. Her soft form would be pressed back against his chest, and her face, glowing with the exertion of the ride, would be turned back and looking up at him, her sweet, parted, smiling lips begging to be kissed …
“Excuse me sir, your bath is ready.” The sound of Robert’s low voice jolted him from his daydream. “Ah, yes, thank you. I will be there directly.” Roberts disappeared and he looked back out of the window. The vision was gone, but his heart was still pounding. He let out a slow breath and tried to calm his body before going to his bath. He wondered if she had received his letter yet.
MRS. BENNET was nearly hysterical when Mrs. Hill appeared at the dinner table to announce that Miss Darcy’s personal messenger was at the door with a letter for Miss Elizabeth. “Well go, Lizzy, go!” She urged her.
